


Poison

by SubverbalDreams



Series: Blood is Forever [2]
Category: Victor Creed (Wolverine Origins), Wolverine (Movies), Wolverine (Origins)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood and Violence, Chains, Choking, Coercion, Double Anal Penetration, FANFICCEPTION, Fanfic of my own fanfic because this is too dark, Half-Sibling Incest, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Incest, I’m sorry, M/M, M/M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rape, Reluctant Top Logan, Scars, Sibling Incest, This is really dark, Top Victor, Torture, Trauma, Vampire Sex, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-10-21 16:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17646176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubverbalDreams/pseuds/SubverbalDreams
Summary: “Victor.” Logan’s throat wasn’t working right. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t remember what he’d meant to say over the pulse of sex and adrenaline. It was so hard to get the words to come to his lips. “Get the kid outta here.”“Why? Cuz it fucks you up inside that you want him like this?”“Let me outta the chains and I’ll show you exactly what I want,” Logan snarled. He jerked his wrists, made the metal cut into his hips, made the long chain rattle between his legs.A vicious light glimmered in Victor’s eyes. “You’re already showin’ me, brother.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up where “Blood Is Forever” left off. Think I got this outta my system, now...we’ll see.

Characters:

Few things calmed the nerves quite like a Cuban cigar. And that would’ve been the case even in these circumstances, if Logan had been able to hold the damn thing himself. 

Victor had come in awhile earlier, grunted “You stink,” and zapped him into unconsciousness with his little army-issued mutant taser. When he’d woken, he was naked and clean, lying on a bare twin mattress in a cell just like the last one—except that it didn’t smell like a guy’d been chained to the wall in it for a day or two. 

Victor had changed his bonds while he was knocked out. He had a thick metal collar around his neck; its chain gave him a few feet to move away from the wall. He wore heavy ankle shackles, with a chain connecting them to each other and to his waist. His arms were trapped down at his sides; those manacles were connected to the chain which wound around his waist. 

The entire rig was adamantium. He knew this, because he’d spent at least a few hours doing contortions, trying to cut the fucking things apart. Chains, cuffs, and the fixture in the wall that held it all together. Weapon X had been a black-ops project, black as they come. According to Victor, some of the same people were part of this newer Tomohawk operation. One way or another, the army had wanted to be sure they could contain Weapon X, if he darkened their doors again, and Victor had gone AWOL with more souvenirs than just his reporting officer’s head. 

Logan sat on the mattress, his back against the wall. Victor sat beside him, smoking a cigarette. After every few puffs of his Marlboro, he would hold the cigar in his other hand up to Logan’s mouth. 

“Was Stryker over you at Tomohawk?” Logan finally asked, breaking the long silence. 

Victor’s gravelly voice came back amused. “You mean, was Stryker the one whose head I ripped off when I tendered my resignation?” 

Logan snorted. “Sure,” he said, then took a drag from the offered cigar. It didn’t much surprise him that Victor knew what cigars he liked. Nothing much could surprise him, right about now. 

“Wasn’t him. He’s in on it, though.” 

Victor put his cigarette on the floor in front of the mattress and stepped one booted foot on top of it. He gave Logan a last, long drag of the cigar, then stubbed it out as well. And without another word, he left. 

Victor had been in a strange mood, the last few times Logan had seen him. Contemplative and quiet. He’d spooned a hot meal into Logan’s mouth earlier, taken out the plate, returned with the smokes, and said nothing the entire time. Logan didn’t expect this calm to last. 

It didn’t. 

He was trying to sleep when that heavy door groaned, somewhere out of sight. He sat up, heart immediately racing. He could just hear the gurgles of someone struggling to scream and breathe at the same time. 

He glared at the wall of bars, waiting. He knew what was about to happen. That didn’t mean he was ready. 

Victor came into view with one arm around Devyn’s waist, the other around his neck. The boy writhed like an eel as he was half-walked, half-carried to the door of the cell. He was partially dressed, at least, in thin, gray sweatpants stained with blood. His wrists were cuffed behind his back. Victor hauled him into the cell, and Logan was able to see his face. 

A metal choke collar ringed his throat; blood dotted his neck beneath its wicked-looking spikes. His chin-length black hair was knotted and mussed. A metal bar was wedged between his teeth; leather straps held it securely around the back of his head. It was a pitilessly functional device. If Devyn could have gone for Victor’s throat, they both would be out of here by now. 

Four scratches ran down the side of his face. A lot more decorated his shoulders and chest, bright red against the older scars. The scratches were narrow, now, but the bruising around them suggested they had been wide gashes before Devyn’s accelerated healing ability had kicked in. The scent of blood was their invisible companion; it billowed in with them, filled every corner of the cell. Logan had tried to prepare himself for this, but he still tasted his heart against the roof of his mouth. When he got free—not if, but _when_ —Victor was going to die a real fuckin’ ugly death. 

“Brought’cha somethin’,” Victor grunted. He set Devyn’s bare feet on the ground and let go. 

Devyn gurgled out a short cry. He crumpled, then rolled onto his side and writhed in place. 

Logan jerked to the end of his tether, despite himself. He stopped a few feet short of where Devyn lay, twisting on the ground like he was on fire. 

“What’s wrong with him? What’d you do?” 

Devyn turned at the sound of his voice. Sapphire blue eyes, ringed in a starburst of brilliant gold, squinted up at him through tears. He choked Logan’s name through the bit in his mouth. 

“Yeah, had a little problem,” Victor said. “Your boy’s got some kick to ‘im. Had to figure out a way to keep him from slippin’ his leash.” He nudged Devyn onto his back with one booted toe, then set his foot onto the choke collar, sinking its spines into the young man’s throat. “Hold still, boy. Quit wigglin’ and it’ll stop hurtin’ so bad.” 

_“What did you DO?”_ Logan shouted. 

Victor eyed him, then shrugged. “Look, it’s only temporary til he starts to mind me. Don’t go gettin’ all bitchy about it.” 

“VICTOR!” 

“You nag like a fuckin’ woman sometimes, y’know that? Alright, alright.” He gave Devyn a sharp kick and barked, _“Hold still!”_

Devyn’s knees curled halfway to his stomach, and he stopped moving. Victor took hold of the waistband of the sweats and pulled them down, baring his ass. 

Logan ground his teeth on a snarl. The young man’s hips were covered in claw marks, and they could only be there for one reason. These were fresher than the ones on his chest and face. The blood stuck to the sweatpants, and dripped from the wounds as they reopened. Victor stripped the pants down his legs with a brutal efficiency and tossed the ruined garment aside. 

There was a wide, silver band wrapped around each of Devyn’s legs, just below the knee. They didn’t look like much, but dark bruises radiated out from under them, and blood trailed down the young man’s calves. 

Victor tapped out a cigarette and lit it. 

“Found out Tomohawk built these special for me,” he rumbled, as he watched Devyn curl onto his side. “Ain’t that a treat?” He snorted, blowing smoke out of his nose. “Bet it was Stryker’s idea. See, it’s got a tube runnin’ through it, and all these big ole blades pokin’ out from the tube. Cuts ya every time ya take a step. Hurts, don’t it, boy? Wouldn’t have t’ do this, if ya’d just mind me.” 

“I’m gonna kill you,” Logan said. His voice was calm, but only because his whole body was buzzing so hard, it felt like his head was in a cloud. Victor squinted at him through a stream of smoke. 

“Ain’t the first time I’ve heard that outta you.” 

“It’s the truth.” 

Victor snorted, took one last drag, and set the cigarette on the floor. Every muscle in Devyn’s body went taut as the big man approached him, circled him. Victor looked between the two of them, then crouched and hauled on Devyn until he was sitting up. He wrapped an arm around the young man’s neck, pushing on the choke collar, and turned Devyn with his other hand to display the raw gashes on his hip. 

“Since he’s bled out a little, he hasn’t been able to break through any o’ the chains I’ve put on him. Problem is, he don’t heal up so good now either. Maybe you wanna help him out with that.” 

If Devyn could feed, he could heal himself quickly. But he didn’t feed from blood alone. The euphoria and arousal that came with shared blood had made Logan lose control of himself more than once before. And that seemed to be Victor’s game. To make him lose control. 

“Why don’t you?” Logan grunted. “Seems to me you’re the one that did it, you should be the one to fix it.” 

Victor cocked a thick, arched eyebrow at that, and smirked. “Fair enough.” He threw Devyn down and rolled him onto his back. The young man choked out a scream and tried to wriggle away. Victor straddled him, knees on his shoulders to hold his upper body in place. He slipped out of his trench coat and chucked it to the side, then pushed up one sleeve of his black button-down shirt to bare his forearm. 

“Open wide, boy. Time for dinner.” 

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t the one doing it. The sight of a vein opening for Devyn to feed made Logan’s dick throb. Victor’s claws split his wrist, then he tangled his hand in the boy’s thick hair and wrenched his head back. He held the wound a few inches over Devyn’s straining mouth. Blood dripped all over the boy’s face and neck, but enough slipped between his lips and past the metal bar that he began to swallow. His canines shot out, long and sharp, and his premolar teeth and lower canines lengthened. Blood rolled into his mouth, but the wound closed in seconds. Victor slashed his wrist again, and again Devyn arched up to the spray. 

Victor’s breaths became heavy as Devyn squirmed beneath him, fighting instinctively to reach the source of the blood. New skin closed over the gashes on his hips, enough to stop them bleeding. Logan could smell the boy from where he knelt—fresh winter air, vanilla and jasmine. It was intoxicating. Everything about him was made to lure in his prey. 

The wound in Victor’s wrist closed again. Devyn let out a protesting moan as the man lowered his arm. 

_“Fuck.”_ Victor’s voice was a thick rumble. He leaned forward, still gripping Devyn’s hair to keep his head in place, and rubbed his crotch into the blood on the boy’s face. 

Devyn’s eyes were hazy, half-opened. He made a sound that tugged at Logan’s cock, and nuzzled up into Victor’s crotch. The pink tip of his tongue poked up from under the bit, and licked at a dark, red smear on the denim. He whimpered. 

“Needy little thing.” Victor smirked up at Logan and humped down on the kid’s mouth. 

“You’re starving him.” He meant his voice to be sharp, but it came out rough. 

“I offered you t’help. Last time he got fangs into me, I busted a nut faster’n I’ve done in a hundred years. And I hadn’t even fucked him, then. Bet he’d love to get his teeth on me now.” He jiggled the bar between Devyn’s teeth. “I’d take all this shit off, if the boy’d just do as I say. ‘M not a monster.” 

Logan barked out a harsh laugh. Victor looked up at him from beneath his eyebrows, and his mouth twitched in a knowing smile. 

“Pot ‘n kettle, Jimmy.” He flicked a clawed finger between the two of them, then tapped his temple. “Just cuz ya don’t remember it, don’t mean it didn’t happen.” 

He stroked the backs of his claws down Devyn’s face. The young man flinched away from the touch. 

“How long’ve you had this boy? You know how he got all these scars?” Holding Devyn’s hair to the floor with one hand, he traced his claws over the scars on the boy’s chest, following the letters of the word, “WHORE,” that someone had carved into his ribs. 

“Leave it,” Logan growled. 

“‘S fucked up, someone did this to him,” Victor muttered as he traced the word. “Like to have some words with whoever it was. Maybe give em some new breathin’ holes.” 

Logan was at a loss for how to respond to that statement, to Victor’s seemingly genuine consternation that someone had cut the boy up, long ago, when Devyn lay gouged and bloody beneath him. But his thoughtful touches turned to full, heavy strokes. He ran his hands all over the young man’s heaving ribs and waist, squeezed and dug his claws into the muscle. 

“Kinda like him all scarred up, though. Makes him look fierce.” He smirked upward. “That why ya like him so much? Cuz o’ the scars?” 

A tide of heat flooded his neck and ears. Logan ground his teeth. The problem was, it was partly true. It wasn’t that he enjoyed the thought of Devyn being tortured, but the layered scars that someone had whipped, caned, and carved into his muscular flesh from the neck down made him look savage and utterly desirable. _Fierce,_ as Victor said. 

Victor was watching his face. He saw something he liked, quirked his lips in a cruel smile, and lowered his stroking hand. 

Devyn cringed as Victor cupped his balls and cock. He drew his legs up halfway, then gagged on a cry as it made the cuffs around his calves slice into him. Logan lunged forward, but realized that even if he kicked his legs out, he wouldn’t be able to reach them. 

Victor shushed the boy, kneaded his fist in his hair as if to soothe him. His hand wrapped around Devyn’s cock and stroked it. The boy was already half-hard from those teasing mouthfuls of blood, and his cock plumped in the punishing grip. His shoulders drew in, tighter and tighter as Victor tugged on him, like he would make himself disappear. 

“That’s right. ‘S good, isn’t it? It’s okay to feel good. Hey,” he jerked his chin at Logan, “tell him you’re not mad. Look at him, all scared you’re gonna hate him for bein’ a good little cockslut.” 

Devyn’s eyes squinted open; for just an instant, he looked into Logan’s eyes. A sob wracked his chest before he was able to strangle it back into silence. Tears made steady tracks down the sides of his face. Victor bent over him, whispered into his ear. 

“Shhhh, it’s okay to like this. That’s a good boy.” 

“Victor.” Logan’s throat wasn’t working right. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t remember what he meant to say over the pulse of sex and adrenaline. It was so hard to get the words to come to his lips. “Get the kid outta here.” 

“Why? Cuz it fucks you up inside that you want him like this?” 

“Let me outta the chains and I’ll show you exactly what I want,” Logan snarled. He jerked his wrists, made the metal cut into his hips, made the long chain rattle between his legs. 

A vicious light glimmered in Victor’s eyes. “You’re already showin’ me, brother.” His eyes caressed Logan’s lower body. He dragged Devyn closer to the mattress, right up next to where Logan knelt, and laid the boy face down with his head and shoulders on the mattress, his lower half on the cold concrete. Devyn’s shoulder touched Logan’s leg, but the boy cringed away from him. 

Victor picked up the chain attached to the choke collar and tossed the end onto the bed, close enough Logan could stretch out his fingers and pick it up. Victor stroked up the boy’s back, from the join of his handcuffs to the base of the collar. He threaded his claws under the collar to scratch at the inflamed skin. Devyn shuddered. 

“You’re not touchin’ him,” he observed. “Don’t tell me you’re tired of him already.” His switchblade grey eyes searched Logan’s face, looking for any lever he could use. “It’s your choice if he gets to have fun or not. Don’t think he’s taken much of a likin’ to me.” 

The distance between them was slim, now. But even if he shot his claws into whatever body part Victor put near his hands, he’d still be chained here, and Victor would heal almost instantly. So he knelt and did nothing, frozen between one pointless choice and another. 

Victor pulled Devyn’s knees apart, taking extra time to caress between his thighs once his legs were spread. He gripped the boy’s arm and lowered to lick the top of his ass crack. Devyn lurched forward, but Victor wasn’t going to be denied. He dug his claws deep into triceps and hip, drawing blood which ran like tears down Devyn’s straining body. 

“Victor,” Logan choked. A dozen pleas, threats and curses tangled up in his throat. The smell that was coming off of Devyn made his head spin. It was so fucking powerful it reached through his veins, tugged at his groin and his claws all at the same time. It was the smell of a hunt coming to a close. The prey had been caught, and it was all done except for the bleeding and feeding. 

Victor looked up at Logan and made a show of running his tongue down Devyn’s crack until his face was buried in the boy’s ass. He made obscene growling, sucking noises that somehow only highlighted the boy’s muffled sobs. He kept at it for a full minute, then pulled back and released the boy so he could unbuckle his own belt. At the distinctive sound of leather slipping through the clasp, Devyn’s whole backside knotted up. His breaths came in short gasps, quicker and quicker until he was hyperventilating. 

“You’re a mean sonofabitch, you know that? Leavin’ this pretty little thing to the wolves.” Victor smiled as he said it. 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“Don’t think I will. Look atcher boy, here. Havin’ himself a panic attack and you sit there doin’ nothin’.” 

“You wanna fuck me? That’s great. Let’s do it.” 

“Nah. I wanna fuck him. You an’ me, we got all the time in the world, but,” he chuckled, and it was like knives driving through Logan’s temples, “I don’t know how much longer he’s gonna last.” 

Devyn’s body was so tense, all of the thick muscle stood out in bands. Sweat gleamed like oil on his scarred flesh. Victor ran his claws over that bunched-up backside, catching the tips against the more prominent scars where someone had once whipped the boy within an inch of his life. Each of Devyn’s exhales came out as a negation. A plea. 

_“Nuh, nuh, nuh, nuh, nuh...”_

Victor settled the length of his cock against the boy’s ass and spat on it. His eyes devoured the prone body beneath him while he slicked himself up. 

“Such a pretty boy,” he rumbled. 

Devyn made a motion like he would try to escape. Victor caught him by the collar, shoved his head and shoulders into the mattress and nudged his knees further apart. Devyn stretched his arms back, caught Victor’s cock in his bound hands and clawed at it. Victor roared and slashed at Devyn’s back. Deep gouges unzipped his flesh from shoulderblades to his waist. 

“Come here!” Logan ordered. “Here!” If Devyn could bring Victor close enough, he was going to try and take off the other mutant’s head. 

Devyn heard him. He squirmed up onto the bed and toward Logan, who shuffled back to make room. He wanted more slack in the chain around his neck when Victor pursued—which he did, with a rabid rage. He leapt onto Devyn’s back and sank teeth into his shoulder, jerked claws down his back and sides. Devyn did something with his bound hands between them that made Victor lift his lower body. Devyn lifted his hips as well, ducked his head to the side and kicked them forward— _kicked,_ despite the spikes driving deep through his calf muscles. Victor had too much leverage for Devyn to be able to roll them over, but it got him just close enough that Logan was able to put his knuckles against the nape of Victor’s neck. 

Victor twisted just as Logan’s claws shot out. The front of his windpipe opened in a spray of blood. He shoved away from them, stumbled backward with his hands over his throat. Logan cursed and turned back to Devyn. 

“Give me your hands, quick!” 

Devyn was curled up beside him, face down. Logan could reach his hair, but not his cuffed wrists. His back was a nightmare. White bone gleamed in at least three places. The back of one arm was split a hand’s breadth wide, and looked more like a cut of raw beef than any human body part. The bleeding had slowed almost to nothing, but the wounds stayed wide open. He was too starved. Logan might as well have been talking to himself. 

“Devyn!” 

Desperate, he grabbed the boy’s hair and pulled. A ridge of cold leather scratched at his skin; the gag. He extended one claw just a few inches and slid it whisper-careful beneath the leather just under Devyn’s ear. Once it was cut, he pulled it away. The straps stuck to Devyn’s indented skin and the bit scraped out from between his teeth. He didn’t react at all. Meanwhile Victor seemed to have decided awake was better than passed out. He was getting too quick a handle on the throat excavation. 

“Devyn!” He gave the choke collar a sharp jerk, but the kid was limp as a sack of grain. “Move! Get up! Give me your hands!” 

Victor’s laugh was more of a wet cough. A slick, red glob splashed out of his mouth. He wiped it on the back of his sleeve. 

“Knew—he still, had some—fight in ‘em,” he rasped out, between coughs. He spat out another clump of red and clear fluid, and then his voice was almost normal. “This one’s on you, little brother. You’re gonna be the one t’fix him up.” 

He hauled Devyn up by the armpits and threw him against Logan like he expected him to catch the boy. Logan fell on his ass so Devyn would stay against his chest, so he wouldn’t fall back and crack his head open on bare concrete. Victor followed them down, and pulled Devyn’s head up so his face was tucked into Logan’s throat. 

Still, no response from the boy. The only thing that kept him from panic was the whisper of shallow breath against the hairs of his neck. Devyn was alive, but out cold. Above them, Victor unbuttoned his blood-soaked black shirt, all slow and easy like he was just starting to unwind. He caught Logan’s incredulous glare and his cheek twitched with half a smirk. 

“Relax,” he said, and shrugged off the shirt, let it drape into his hands. He stretched out one of the sleeves and ripped it at the underarm seam, then tossed the empty tube onto the bed next to Logan. “Just lookin’ out for ya.” 

“Don’t.” 

Logan’s spine wound up like a spring as Victor stalked around to his left. But he stayed to the side, and with Devyn’s limp body sprawled over him, there was no chance of getting another shot in. Victor got up next to them, leaned down, and slathered his tongue inside one of the wide gashes that had split a valley in Devyn’s shoulder. A deep purr rumbled out of him. When he opened his eyes to give Logan one of those too-intimate stares, the pupils had swallowed all the color except for a stretched, gray ring. 

Victor’s bare arms circled their necks in something way too close to a hug. His finger pads squeezed Logan’s neck where it met his shoulders, hard enough to make his spine tingle, claws digging just enough to dent his skin. 

“Always lookin’ out for ya,” Victor whispered. 

The pain was expected, but still made him jump. Victor’s claw opened his carotid artery, right under Devyn’s slack lips. Warmth trickled wet down his collarbone. Victor scooped up the blood with his fingers and wiped it over the boy’s open mouth. 

The strike came so fast, he didn’t know it had happened. His vision burst into a shatter of light and color. Molten gold became a rainbow, seeped into his veins and coiled in his heart. It churned out as pure, magma crimson, up through his arteries to rush from his throat and into Devyn’s sucking mouth. Logan moaned, and it was the most beautiful song he’d ever heard. The air crackled on his tongue like fizz from a cold lager. 

The dream ended abruptly, though it took his body longer to remember how to be awake. His throat was cold and bare. A sound he didn’t recognize seeped through his lips. He found his eyes somewhere in the back of his head, made them open. 

Devyn was straddling his hips. How they had come to be in that position was a mystery, one he had no interest in. The only riddle he wanted to solve was how to fuse their flesh together, so solid and complete, that he would turn to fire and color again. He couldn’t seem to get his arms around the boy, so he gripped Devyn’s thighs and rocked up against him. Devyn moaned sweetly for him, shifted to rub their cocks together, but he needed more. 

He watched in a daze, with only the smallest tickle of curiosity, as someone else’s hands came around Devyn’s head, holding a stretch of blackness between them, and wedged it into Devyn’s mouth. The boy whimpered. Behind him, tarnished gray eyes bored into Logan’s. Victor tied the shirt sleeve in a knot behind Devyn’s head. Logan finally realized that Victor was the one who’d pulled Devyn’s fangs from him. He’d separated their joining, and now he was going to keep them apart. Logan moaned in protest. 

“You’re stoned as I ever seen ya, little brother,” Victor chuckled. “Here, have your sweet thing. All healed up, good as new.” 

The words were just noise, but when Devyn’s flesh settled back against him, it said everything he wanted to hear. He tightened his grip on the boy’s spread legs and rutted into his belly. Devyn wriggled, so teasing, squeezed Logan’s hips between his thighs. His groans were muffled by the gag, the sound enough to turn Logan’s heart inside out with hunger. He wanted those groans muffled by the gag _and_ his own weight. He wanted to climb on top of his beautiful, striped lover and fuck him, bound and gagged, into the bed til he couldn’t get enough breath through just his nose, til he passed out from too little air and too much raw stimulation. The smell of him was a drug and if he was high right now, he never wanted to come down. Devyn was hard as he was, wet and hot dragging through the fur on his belly. Blood and precum smeared between them, the combination enough to wrench a growl of want from his chest. 

Devyn arched against him, gasped into his shoulder, and when Logan looked down he saw Victor’s face nestled between the boy’s spread legs. They locked eyes, and somehow it had changed between them. There was only heat, a flood that rose up from his gut and lower places, and if Victor wanted to help it cool down, Logan couldn’t stop him. The hands that stroked up his thighs left satisfied trails behind them, like his skin had turned voracious. He needed touch. Every part of him that wasn’t being touched right now felt like it would burst into flames. 

Victor rose up behind Devyn, licked blood from his skin like it was cream, until he was settled over the boy’s back. He looked Logan straight in the eyes and bit the back of Devyn’s neck, just under the choke collar. The boy inhaled sharply, a gasp that should have been for Logan, not for Victor, so Logan nudged his face under Devyn’s chin to lock his teeth over the pulse. Victor’s chuckle sent a stream of heat across his cheek. Logan lost himself in the taste of Devyn’s throat, mingled with the scent of blood and Victor. The boy’s veins ran hot with need, buzzed with his power and a hunger Logan had never felt from him, not this strong. It flooded Logan’s tongue and poured down his throat like whiskey. He groaned and gnawed into the flesh, didn’t care when the choke collar caught at his whiskers, or that Victor was mirroring him at the back of his boy’s neck, chewing him like a rawhide. Devyn’s lithe body squirmed between the two of them, unable to do anything but feel what they were doing to him, and it occurred to Logan that at some point it had become “they,” but the thought was gone as soon as he noticed it. 

Victor backed up, went to haul Devyn’s hips into the air, but Logan tightened his grip—Devyn cried out, but he didn’t notice—and snarled. _MINE._ He didn’t say it, but it was in the baring of his teeth and Victor knew it. The man’s face split in a self-satisfied grin. 

Victor took Devyn by the shoulders and hauled him up until he was sitting over Logan’s hips. The change of position and whatever it did to Devyn’s calves made him scream. A string of precum tied the tip of his straining cock to Logan’s. Victor hugged him with one arm and fisted his cock for a few pumps. His hips bucked into the pull. 

“You want your man to fuck you?” Victor breathed into the shell of his ear. He found the dark red spot on the boy’s throat where Logan had brought up a hickey and he suckled it, tasting the two of them together. Devyn tilted his head to give better access, and that seemed answer enough. If Logan was high from the feeding, so was he. Nothing seemed to matter except to end this craving. 

Victor reached beneath Devyn and pulled Logan’s hard-on into position. Slow and easy had never seemed his style, and he proved it now; he lifted the boy just enough, and when he dropped Devyn’s weight, he was speared to the hilt in a shocked instant. 

Devyn went rigid, eyes flown wide and unfocused like every particle of his awareness was turned inward. His heartbeat throbbed through Logan’s cock, and that was it; that was what he had needed so desperately. His hips took over. He’d taken Devyn this way before—the single, hard thrust that breached all his defenses in one go. He’d like to pretend he knew Devyn wanted it, that the scent of need was consent enough, but the truth was he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. 

He shifted to angle the sharp jabs of his hips up and in, to hit the boy’s sweet spot. Devyn screamed, thrashed back and forth in Victor’s arms, begged and swore behind thick cotton. Little by little, his body loosened to Logan’s cock. He found the rhythm and snapped his own hips forward and back. Logan stilled to feel it, his cock being jerked off inside the clenching sheath of Devyn’s body. Tears snaked down the boy’s blush-reddened cheeks and Victor saw it, curled around him to lick them from his face in obscene strokes of his tongue. It was wrong, and utterly hot, and Logan rolled his hips up until Devyn’s knees left the bed. For just a moment, the only things holding him up were Logan’s hips, the cock inside him, and Victor’s arms around his chest. Devyn gasped in rapid, shallow breaths, twisted away from Victor’s tongue, but kept undulating his hips until Logan was seeing stars. 

“Fuck...oh, fuck,” Victor panted. “Knew it’d be good, but...” He trailed off, buried his face in Devyn’s neck below the choke collar and groaned into his flesh as he bit down. Logan’s hips lowered back to the bed; Victor leaned back with Devyn held tight to his chest, and it made the angle of their joining so acute that Devyn let out a muffled scream with each exhale. “That’s it, fuck yourself, boy,” Victor grunted. “Show him how you like it.” 

Devyn tried for words, and “Fuck you” was easy to distinguish despite the gag and the labored breathing. Victor laughed, low and pleased. He wrapped a hand around Devyn’s cock, but didn’t move it. 

“Fuck me, then,” he sneered. “Go on.” 

The hooded crown of Devyn’s uncut cock speared through the ring of Victor’s grip, then disappeared as he pulled back. Victor held just the end of his cock, forcing him to thrust his hips high to get any friction. The effect on Logan was mind-melting. Devyn’s tight body milked him with every upward thrust, like it would pull the cum up from his balls just from suction. He realized he was cursing in a steady, low stream, that he was going to cum, and he didn’t want to, not yet, but he couldn’t resist the way Devyn worked him. 

“Uh-uh,” Victor tutted, and he pulled Devyn off him before his orgasm quite reached the tipping point. Logan swore at him. 

“Your kid ain’t had his yet, Jimmy. Don’t be so selfish.” He pulled Devyn back against his chest so Logan’s hard-on stood untouched between them. One of Victor’s arms disappeared between him and Devyn; he rolled his hips, and Devyn’s short scream was all that needed to be said about what he’d just done. 

_“Get off him,”_ Logan snarled. Victor barely paid him any mind; his face was buried in Devyn’s hair, breathing him in as he fucked him. 

“Didn’t think I’d just watch, did you? Mmm,” he groaned, rolled his hips and licked sweat from Devyn’s throat as the boy thrashed in his grip. “So good once he’s fucked loose. Such a good whore.” 

That was enough to jolt Logan out of his drunken haze. That word, the one part of Devyn’s scars he always tried to hide, even from Logan. To use it in this moment was the cruelest thing Victor had done yet. 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP,” Logan yelled, half-rising, at the same time that Devyn cracked his head backward into Victor’s mouth. Victor’s head snapped back with the blow. He caught Devyn by the hair before he could do it again. The boy’s scream echoed off the stone walls. 

Victor bit Devyn’s neck, just over the collar. Blood squirted out from beneath his lips. He smeared it up the boy’s cheek with his tongue, then shot a look at Logan. His clawed hand gripped Devyn’s chest, pulled at the letters that had been carved into him. 

“Heh. Guess I deserved that.” His hips snapped up in quick, hard thrusts. Devyn writhed in his grip, panting so hard he was near to hyperventilating again. “Calm down, pretty boy. Not gonna let anyone else have you. You’re mine, and I don’t share with anyone except him.” He wrapped both arms around Devyn’s chest, squeezed until the young man’s panicked breaths slowed—if only because he couldn’t breathe through the restriction of his ribs. 

“Shh, we’re gonna take good care of you. Gonna keep you safe and fuck you every night. Just us three. How’s that sound?” He reached down to milk Devyn’s cock. Slickness leaked from the tip, and Victor smeared it back down over the shaft. “That get you hot, boy? You like bein’ kept? Let everyone else want what they can’t have, but you’ll spread like a cock-hungry slut for the two of us.” 

Devyn’s eyes were bloodshot, glazed with tears. Hunger and fury poured off him, drenched the air in red. Victor’s greedy hands ran all over his slick skin, pulled his hair and smeared through the blood that was kept from drying by his sweat. 

“Feelin’ left out, brother?” He murmured the question into Devyn’s throat, then tipped the boy’s chin back and bit down on his pulse point. Logan said nothing. The urge to cum was gone, but he was still hard. Self-loathing and lust beat a dual tattoo from behind his skin. 

Devyn’s muscular, lithe body, scarred and bloody, writhing on another man’s cock. It wasn’t something he’d ever imagined, but he couldn’t look away, couldn’t convince his traitorous body that this wasn’t the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. And when Victor tucked the end of the choke collar’s lead into his hand, he fisted the chain and _pulled._

Devyn’s upper body hunched forward as the collar pulled tight, two dozen spines pressing divets into his tender throat. His eyes followed the length of chain to Logan’s hand. He pulled again, watched Devyn’s face darken, and shame added a few more logs to the fire of his hunger. The heat must have burned Devyn, too, because he pushed his hips forward so his hard dick was caught against the chain. He whimpered, thrust against the cold metal links, and when Logan gave a third tug, the chain pulled Devyn’s cock to the side until it slipped off the tip. A breathless scream was cut short by the tightening collar. 

Victor lifted Devyn off his own cock and pushed him forward, arm around his waist. He took Logan’s cock in his other hand and brought him back to the boy’s entrance, then let Devyn fall. A sobbing cry was caught on the back of the gag, and choked back down his throat. 

His body was heaven, fucked loose and wet. Logan resettled his grip at the top of Devyn’s thighs, right at the joining of his hips, and deliberately gripped hard enough to bruise. He had to do something to get Devyn’s attention off Victor. But more than that: he had to mark this body as _his._

Victor guided the collar’s chain from beneath his fingers, adjusted it so it trailed down Devyn’s back, and nudged it into Logan’s other hand. Instead of releasing, though, he kept messing with Logan’s fingers, and finally pissed him off enough that Logan grabbed full hold of the chain and gave it a solid jerk. The moment he did, Victor shoved Devyn in the center of his back so he toppled forward. Logan managed to release the chain enough that the spines didn’t drive straight through the boy’s windpipe, but they still dug in deep. Crimson droplets welled up beneath each spine and trickled down Devyn’s throat. 

“Fucking bastard!” he snarled, but it didn’t stop his thrusts. 

Victor shrugged. “He likes it.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“You like it.” 

Logan gave up on the pointless exchange. Devyn’s mouth was right next to his ear, giving every gasp and sob a direct line to his spinal column where it shivered down to his cock as he thrust up into the boy, completing the circuit. He tilted into Devyn’s neck, stretched his tongue out to steal a trickle of blood from the wicked spines of the choke collar. Metal and mineral. Sweat and pain. 

“You’re _mine,”_ he whispered, and the collar tightened as his grip clenched down on Devyn’s thighs. 

“Yuh,” the boy moaned into his hair. 

Facial hair scratched across his balls and Logan tensed up. It didn’t ease his tension one bit when Victor’s tongue licked up the base of his cock to where his body joined Devyn’s. The boy squirmed forward, and Victor’s hands clamped down on top of Logan’s, pulling him back down. 

“Hold still, kid.” His hot, wet breath made Logan’s cock jump, which made Devyn’s back arch. Any movement caused such a chain reaction, it was hard to tell whose body was whose. Victor’s tongue traced the rim of Devyn’s hole, then pushed at it, trying to wedge inside with Logan’s cock. 

“Aaah _fuck!”_ Logan’s spine arched, and Victor’s chuckle made his cheeks heat. Victor held on over his hands and fucked his tongue into their joining. Spit dripped down his chin, drenched the base of Logan’s cock and cooled on his balls so that every time Victor exhaled, it made the skin draw tight. He tongue-fucked along with Logan’s thrusts until the wire-tight tension bled out of Devyn’s legs, and the boy was moaning with every thrust despite the unwelcome third party. 

The relaxation lasted until Victor climbed up, pushed Logan’s legs apart to make room for himself, and the cold zipper of his opened pants brushed between them. Victor laid his hard, hot length along the base of Logan’s. Devyn twisted like he would crawl away from both of them. Victor grabbed the choke collar and used it to hold him in place. 

“He’s not ready.” That was what came out of Logan’s mouth. Not, _don’t do this._ At some point, he’d resigned himself to mitigating damage instead of preventing it. But he’d be lying if he tried to say that no part of him wanted it to happen. He wanted to know what it would feel like. And if Victor was telling him the truth about his past, then maybe he _had_ known, once. That thought twisted in his belly. Shame felt the same as greed, now that he’d been rolling in the muck for a while. There was nothing left of him but heat and wanting. 

“Can’t do much about that,” Victor replied. “What with you all tied up, and—” He wiggled his clawed fingers in the air. He spat and pushed down, trying to wedge the tip of his cock inside. His grip on the choke collar kept Devyn’s upper body in place, so the boy twisted his hips instead. Victor’s low chuckle sent frigid sweat down the back of Logan’s neck. 

“Your boy still plays hard to get,” he purred. “I fuckin’ love the way he fights me.” He didn’t let up the pressure, and with the way Devyn kept writhing, Victor was going to rip him apart once he got the leverage to push inside. Logan firmed his grip on Devyn’s thighs, held him in place. The boy’s heartbeat slammed between them like a recrimination. His muffled pleas burned all the way down Logan’s chest. 

“Nuh, nuh, ‘lease, Logan, _‘lease nuhhh...”_

Logan hushed him, but he didn’t loosen his grip. “He’ll tear you if you don’t relax. Shh, let go. Just fall onto me. Let go.” Devyn’s pleading turned to wordless, shuddering sobs, and something inside of Logan broke. He closed his eyes, unwilling to see Victor’s smug grin of agreement that yes, he was a monster. 

The pressure built against his cock and the head of Victor’s nudged in beside him. Devyn went perfectly silent. Logan kneaded his fingers into the jumping muscles of Devyn’s thighs. 

“Easy, easy, stay relaxed...shh, that’s it.” Self-loathing flushed his face so hot, it felt like he was burning up. Victor kept pushing while he and Devyn held still, until the crown of his cock was inside and nothing had ever been so tight and hot as this. Logan’s words trailed off into a groan. 

As Victor pushed in deeper alongside him, all the tension drained from Devyn’s thighs. He went utterly limp, face hidden in Logan’s neck. Not passed out; his short gasps showed he was still with them, but overwhelmed. Both men relaxed their grip on him, and Victor readjusted to hold Devyn’s hip while he slowly pushed in until he was hilt deep, his balls and Logan’s pressed together and the length of them both squeezed so tight it hurt. 

Victor leaned down, rested his chin on Devyn’s shoulder and looked into Logan’s eyes. The backs of his knuckles brushed Logan’s cheek, then fingers threaded up into his hair and he pushed in for a kiss. Logan didn’t dare bite him with Devyn so delicately speared between them. He let Victor’s tongue slide into his mouth. Goosebumps pulled up in a cold wave along his thighs, and his fingertips dug into Devyn’s legs. 

Victor’s mouth tasted like home. 

“Such a good boy we got here,” Victor murmured against his lips. 

“He is. So take care of him.” 

“‘M gonna.” He leaned down for another kiss, and Logan gave it to him. Logan sucked blood from the inside of Victor’s mouth, traces of Devyn, that flavor he’d know anywhere; he jealously reclaimed it from Victor’s tongue. 

They separated and turned as one to Devyn. Victor pulled his chin up, tilted him so they could both taste him. The gag blocked them kissing, but Logan sucked the boy’s plush upper lip and Victor lathered them both with his tongue. Devyn’s eyelashes fluttered against Logan’s cheek, the delicate brush as enflaming as the squeeze around his dick. 

Victor groaned deep in his chest. It vibrated through Devyn and into Logan, hot electricity down that circuit running between them. When Victor shifted his hips, they all moaned. 

“Fuck, oh fuck,” Victor grunted. “Can’t keep holdin’ still.” 

“Not yet,” Logan gasped as Devyn clenched around them. 

“Stay soft, boy,” Victor hissed into Devyn’s ear. “Do as you’re told. That’s right,” he said, as Devyn’s muscles relaxed and he sank back onto Logan’s chest. “That’s right. Fuck, such a good boy.” 

He pulled out some, thrust back in. Devyn choked out a helpless sound. Victor set a slow pace, and it was like nothing Logan had ever known. His cock was being worked in a hot, wet vise. The combined musk of the younger and older man, his own scent, the blood and power of overwrought emotions had become a cocktail so addictive, he wanted to bathe in it. He pushed Devyn’s hips down and joined Victor’s lazy thrusts. Devyn panted against his neck, wept, and took them both. 

So tight. So fucking tight and wet and hot. Logan bent his knees, dug his heels into the floor and fucked upward. Victor pulled Devyn up so that he sat astride Logan’s hips. The change of angle made Devyn shriek. Victor shifted the boy’s legs so they were out straight, the weight not all on the cuffs around his calves, but it also stole any control Devyn had over their position. He sat on both their cocks, completely dependent on Victor to keep him upright. Logan couldn’t get his hands over the boy’s thighs from this angle, so he cupped them from beneath, with his own thighs against his knuckles. 

Devyn’s head fell back against Victor’s shoulder. He’d be getting full pressure against his prostate, from this angle. Sweat washed the blood down his chest, made his nipples gleam, so tempting, so out of reach. Victor followed his gaze, grabbed one of Devyn’s nipples and kneaded it, earning another moan. He watched Logan, stroked all over the boy’s stretched six-pack abdomen, between his thighs, gathered his balls and cock in both hands and manipulated him. Which of them was the voyeur, Logan couldn’t have said. Him for watching, or Victor for devouring his reaction. Their hips rolled as one, and Devyn sang out a wavering moan. He writhed back against Victor, fucked up into his hands and squeezed the two men inside him so hard, they both gasped. 

“Oh, fuck it like that, boy,” Victor growled. Encouragement and curses streamed out of him as Devyn writhed on them, able to use only his abdominal muscles to fuck into Victor’s hand. 

“Fuck.” Victor’s eyes turned down to Logan, and the darkness in them seemed to stretch for miles. “You ever think what it was like, little brother?” He caressed Devyn’s chest again, but this time he was tracing the scars, not the muscles. “I know you did,” he whispered. “I know you. Always wantin’ it, but never takin’ it.” 

Of course, he would strike this blow now. Logan could barely string two thoughts together in his head. He tried to let Victor’s voice become a drone. He fixated on the movement of Victor’s claws as he fanned them out to follow five prominent scars that ran like tiger stripes around Devyn’s side, hugging his ribs. 

“Just think, ‘f you coulda been the one to do this. Gettin’ to watch your marks stay on his skin forever. Gettin’ to fuck him when you know you’re the one that made him so pretty.” 

Logan might’ve made a sound; he wasn’t sure. Victor was inside his head, digging through the dark corners and turning out all the filth that lived there. 

God, he had thought about it. He had. 

Victor went stone-still, his whole body coiled, and Logan barely had time to start forming the word “no” with his tongue before Victor dug his claws into the boy’s ribs and ripped all five of the scars wide open. Devyn’s eyes flew wide. 

Logan shot bolt upright—to do what, he didn’t know. Hide Devyn’s body with his own, maybe. The blood was hot against his chest, and it called him to fight, to kill. Six blades punctured through the mattress; he’d barely gotten his hands off his own thighs in time. 

Victor raised his crimson fingers to his lips and licked them off. Logan screamed in his face, but the man was in another world, eyes half-lidded like he was on drugs. 

_“Taste him,”_ he groaned. “Taste him.” 

Logan was shaking like a leaf. The only sounds he could get out were growls and pants. The blood smelled good, so fucking good and he couldn’t...if there was one tiny line left that separated him from the animal that was clawing from the inside of his chest... 

It was Devyn who responded to the offer. His head lolled back onto Victor’s shoulder; he opened his mouth wide and let out a soft moan. Victor’s hooded eyes fixed on Devyn’s, and a wicked grin bared his fangs. He brought his hand up from the boy’s side, cupping a handful of blood, and let it drip out into the boy’s open mouth. Then Victor cupped his jaw, forcing him to bite down on the gag, and slathered a bestial kiss across his stained lips. 

The sweat was a hot mass between their legs, and it made everything slick and easy. Easy was good. Easy meant he didn’t have to think, didn’t have to do anything but let his hips move. Victor looped an arm around the back of Logan’s neck, holding them all together. Devyn kept moaning, low and sweet like nothing had ever felt so good.

And then he spoke. 

_“Daddy...Daddy, please. Please.”_

Logan and Victor locked eyes. The gag had muffled it, but the words had been clear enough. 

There was no question in his mind. It wasn’t like he had never suspected. Whatever had been done to the boy before he’d been turned into a vampire, the torture had gone on for enough years that some scars were dead white while others still glowed an angry purple. And him so young. Not even twenty. 

Yeah, he’d suspected. But to hear it now, like this... 

He waited to hear the pleased laugh. Waited for Victor to throw it in both their faces, to say something vicious to gut the boy. But Victor’s expression had frozen. 

He grabbed Devyn’s hair and shook him. “Open your eyes. Open ‘em!” 

Sapphire and gold peeked out between black fans that had clumped together with Devyn’s tears. It took a moment for his glazed eyes to focus on Logan. 

“You see him?” Victor growled against the boy’s cheek. Devyn nodded, and Victor twisted his grip in the boy’s hair so they faced each other. 

“You see me?” 

“Yuh.” 

“Say my name.” 

He did, though the gag garbled it. 

“And his.” 

Devyn obeyed. 

“That’s right. Just the two of us an’ you.” He ran his fingers through the boy’s hair, rough and possessive, then down his chest, his flanks, and up between his thighs to grab hold of his cock. He worked it in his palm, rumbled his promises into Devyn’s throat. “You belong to _us._ You hear me, kid? I’ll slaughter any fuckin’ man that tries to touch you. We don’t share. You’re _ours.”_ The last word came out bestial, ridged around the edges with a tiger’s growl. 

Whatever had been broken inside Devyn long ago, whatever he’d managed to piece together since then, Victor’s words seemed to hit the structure just right to topple it all into rubble. Devyn melted back into his arms and murmured, _“Victor.”_

Victor hooked his hands behind Devyn’s knees and drew the boy’s legs up to his chest. This position put Victor in total control of their movement. The cuffs had to be shredding his calves each time the man lifted and dropped him, but the pain lines had disappeared from Devyn’s forehead. If he didn’t look like he’d just been beaten half to death and his neck chewed up by wild dogs, his expression could’ve been blissful. 

_“Ah...Victor...Logan...”_

Victor nudged his head back, found an unmarked spot on his throat, and bit down until blood filled the spaces between his teeth. 

Devyn’s moans got deep, vibrated through his ribs. Even relaxed, his body clutched them so tight it rode the line of being painful. Victor’s cock rubbed alongside Logan’s, drove hard to mark them both with his presence, and Logan couldn’t stop ogling the way Devyn offered his throat to Victor’s teeth, so willing and loose, now, eyes focused on something only he could see. 

“So good,” Victor moaned, licked droplets of blood from Devyn’s bared throat. “Little pain-slut. Love the way you take it.” 

Devyn cried out something unintelligible. He gasped, his eyes filled with tears, and his body clenched down. His cock jerked, and a stream of white shot up onto his own chest. Logan sank down onto the bed so he could thrust up into the last shuddering clenches of the boy’s orgasm. 

Victor let one of Devyn’s legs down, grabbed his jerking cock and milked him dry. He scooped up the slick fluid, rubbed it into Devyn’s throat and then devoured it off him with a growl that turned into a wracking moan. He scooped a second load from the boy’s chest to slather it onto his bruised and bitten throat. 

“Taste him,” he groaned, and pushed the boy down onto Logan’s chest, hand in his hair to keep his head tilted back. Just the scent of him pulled a growl up from the base of Logan’s spine. There was no more resistance inside him. He grabbed hold of Devyn’s hips, and curled up to lock his mouth over the liquid gleam that coated his pulse point. 

Cum and blood and lust and pain. 

His eyes rolled up. He heard himself making noises that could’ve belonged to a rabid animal, grunts and snarls that didn’t sound human. It was all he could do not to sink his teeth through the flesh. There had never been a hunger like _this._

Victor shoved the boy down and began to thrust like he’d pound them both into the bed. Devyn screamed out sounds that vibrated up through Logan’s teeth, and Logan joined the wild thrusts, held their boy’s hips in place and took from him until the glow in his mouth met the spreading warmth in his cock, and the entire fucking world whited out. 

He roared into the mouthful of flesh. Stars exploded behind his eyelids, so fast and furious it was like a firework show. His claws ripped free and he opened his eyes to see Victor’s mouth open, eyes wide with surprise, and more heat than a man should’ve been able to hold inside him. Logan’s claws had sunk into his belly, just above the hip bones. Victor clamped both hands over Logan’s wrists, gouged deep into his forearms, and fucked his hips forward with a moan like it was the best thing he’d ever felt. 

Victor’s abdominal muscles sucked and pulled at Logan’s claws, every bit as stimulating as the body wrapped around their cocks. Victor’s own claws dug deep into his forearms, just under the blades so they couldn’t retract. 

He’d known exactly where they sat in Logan’s forearms when they were extended. 

He’d _known._

Logan looked up into his brother’s eyes and watched the orgasm tear through him. Victor didn’t release his forearms until the last shudder was spent and even then, he fucked his hips back and forth to spread their slickness around. It felt so damn good, all sloppy and slippery. 

Victor’s claws came out of his forearms, and his own claws retracted with the exceptionally painful tug of ripped muscle. A relieved groan wrenched out of both of them. 

Victor leaned to kiss him, and Logan opened to it on instinct. Victor’s tongue explored his mouth, his teeth, devoured him until they were both short on air. When Victor pulled back, a soft grin curled his lips. It took a conscious effort for Logan to pull away from that softness. Felt like he was drowning in it. 

“Take the cuffs off his legs,” Logan whispered. He hadn’t meant his voice to be a whisper, but there it was. 

Victor’s smile dimmed. “Can’t do that yet.” He stroked his knuckles across Devyn’s cheek. The boy was still with them; his eyelids fluttered open. He saw Victor and let out a soft breath. 

“I’ll get you cleaned up in a while, boy,” Victor murmured. “Wanna stay dirty for now.” 

Devyn hummed and closed his eyes, melted into Logan’s chest. Victor’s weight was heavy on his back, pushing them both down into the bed. Claiming them with his body. They stayed that way for a long time, until their sweat had dried and the blood gone tacky on their skin. 

Victor finally shifted, then pulled out. The movement pulled Logan out, too. Devyn whimpered protest. Slick fluid leaked down between them and cooled quickly. He and Devyn were gonna be stuck together like glue, with all the blood drying between them. He should roll them over, let the boy get into a more comfortable position, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Once Devyn had come down from the adrenaline overload, he might never willingly touch Logan again. 

Victor stood up and tucked himself into his pants, licked blood off his hands like it was a drink he’d spilled. He crossed the room to his discarded jacket, tapped out a smoke and lit it, then pulled out the half-smoked cigar and waggled it in the air. 

“Smoke?” 

“Yeah,” he croaked. “Need a blanket, too.” He didn’t bother to ask for a free hand. 

“Get you one in a minute.” 

“And a new bed.” 

Victor smirked. “Princess.” 

“Fuck you,” he mumbled, but there was no force behind it. 

“Need a few minutes, Jimmy. Christ. Not as young as you.” The quip came out slow, like he was still riding the high. He must have been; Logan was. He’d never felt this total body relaxation, this echoing calm that buzzed under his skin like a pleased hum. That thought made a knot rise up in his throat, and he was vaguely aware that his eyes were wet. 

What would he do to feel this good again? 

Victor came back, sat down next to him and got the cigar burning. Once it was sending up a decent plume of smoke, he brought it down to Logan’s mouth. Logan blew the smoke away from Devyn’s face. The boy’s breath was slow and steady, but his eyes were partway open. Not asleep, then. 

Victor lowered the hand with the cigarette to Devyn’s cheek, stroked his chin. 

“Want some, boy?” The butt of his cigarette was stained crimson. Devyn shook his head. 

“Why’d I change my name to Logan? You said it was our old man’s name, but you don’t use it.” 

Victor hid the surprise quickly, but it was there. He gave Logan another drag from the cigar and waved away the smoke he blew out. 

“You won’t believe me,” he grumbled. 

Logan grunted. So much for that. A minute passed in silence. Victor crossed his arms over his knees, with the cigar in one hand and cigarette in the other. 

“Did it for me,” Victor said, not looking at him. He flicked ash onto the floor. “Least, I always thought ya did. Cuz ya got raised by someone else, ‘n didn’t find out he’d fathered you til the day you killed him.” To Logan’s questioning look he said, “He deserved it, don’t get me wrong. He was a piece o’ fuckin’ garbage. But,” he shrugged. “He gave me you. So.” He covered his mouth with the cigarette, but his eyes dropped to Devyn. “Why does any man ever have kids.” It wasn’t a question. 

And oh, how Logan wanted to ask, but he wasn’t suicidal. In retrospect, Victor’s reaction to the boy’s cry of “Daddy” seemed answer enough. 

“Take the cuffs off his legs, Victor. Please.” 

A deep exhale. Not exactly a “no.” 

“We’ll see. He needs to mind me. Stop tryin’a run away.” 

“Use something else, then. It’s not like you can’t catch him.” 

Victor chuckled, and it seeped through Logan’s pores, into his blood where it could never leave him. 

“He put up a hell of a fight,” he rumbled, and flashed that fanged grin. “I’ll think about it.” He put the cigar back to Logan’s mouth, and they both fell silent. 

There was a lot more Logan could have said. More he could have asked about, asked _for,_ maybe could’ve bargained in Victor’s relaxed state. But he got caught up in the silence. In the weight of a young body on top of him, but with the scent of Victor’s sweat, blood, and cum—the scent of _Victor,_ combined with his own, making an entirely new scent that was “them,” and not “him.” 

He couldn’t deny it anymore, because the scent held the answer. He knew this “we” scent all the way down to his bones. 

Brother. Lover. 

Victor was poison. Maybe he’d been something else, once. Maybe it had been enough for Logan to stick by his side. Or maybe Logan had been something else too, and it hadn’t made his skin crawl like it did now. It didn’t much matter. Those good old days were gone, and they weren’t coming back. 

They had to get out, or they were both going to break. With him stuck in adamantium chains, Devyn was their best chance of busting free. If he could get enough blood in him, and get those fucking spikes out of his legs. Of course, after this, he might just take off on his own. Logan wouldn’t blame him one bit. 

He wished he could have put his arms around Devyn. He settled for cradling the boy’s hips and kneading into the muscle. A soft exhale let him know it was appreciated. It wouldn’t stop the nightmares, when they came, but it was something. 

Victor held the cigar down to his lips, and Logan slipped his tongue along Victor’s finger. Their eyes caught, and that fanged smile, softened by orgasm, was still dark enough to raise the hair on Logan’s neck. 

“Feels right, don’t it.” 

Logan blew a stream of smoke right up into his face. Victor waved it away, but he still looked pleased. 

Logan nudged the cigar away as it came back to his lips. He lifted his head until he could get his nose against Victor’s wrist to sniff at his pulse point. His eyelids fluttered, and he let his head fall back down. 

“It does,” he whispered.


	2. Illustration - NSFW-ish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess I wasn't done with this story yet...

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Reader,  
> thank you for being here. I would love to hear from you! Ideas, requests & feedback are awesome. :)
> 
> This work is a spinoff of my “Ghost on the Highway” series, which has actual StoryLine(TM) and is not completely fucked up, as this work admittedly is. That’s why “Poison” gets its own segregated cubbyhole, and never the twain shall meet. Check out GotH (once you’ve recovered) if you want to see the good guys actually do hero things and have sexy adventures. Then check out the sequel Back into the Fray for lots of gratuitous, consensual sex. Blood and bruises guaranteed.


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